


Team, Time and Tyler

by talkingtothesky



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-03 20:18:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2886245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/pseuds/talkingtothesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gene had been expecting a ransom note. Sealed envelope, no fingerprints except Sam's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team, Time and Tyler

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Little_Cello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Cello/gifts).



> Written for little_cello in the 2012 Armed Bastards Exchange for the prompt 'In the nick of time'.

Gene arrived at the cells just as Hale was being carried out on a stretcher. He stared at him, gut twisting with a mix of fury and regret. He'd pushed too hard, of course he had. Too much at stake. Hadn't wanted this, though.

 

Chris was standing just inside the door. He must have seen the look on Gene's face, because he attempted a reassuring smile. "Annie said the cut's not too deep, there's every chance he'll make it. We got here in the nick of time, Guv."

 

Gene nodded at him distractedly, attention on the cracked plate and spray of blood up one wall. "He was our best lead."

 

"He might still talk. When he recovers."

 

"We haven't got time to wait. I'm going back out." Without a second glance he jogged back up the stairs and out to the Cortina, mind racing. He'd have to try the canal, soon.

 

\---

 

Sam was floating. Once the haze of drugs had settled on him, it was as though all the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. No longer an Inspector with colleagues and responsibilities, he was just Sam, and he quite liked it that way. At last, he had time to think. And to sleep. Now that he was not in his flat, the girl from the telly hadn't come to visit him at night. He kept expecting to see her popping out of the walls.

 

He didn't know where he was, but at least he wasn't in hospital. Not in this decade, anyway. He'd asked them once, what year it was. A bit delirious, he'd cried out for Maya. They had laughed at him and shut the door behind them.

 

\---

 

The door to the pub closed with a gentle thud. Gene was exhausted but his own house would be cold. It had to appear to be business as usual. He still had a team to run. Fat lot of good it was too, without its best player.

 

He settled into a game of darts with Ray in the hope that it would help him not to think. Gene was good at darts. If only he could aim at a map and the place where it landed could tell him with pinpoint accuracy where they were holding Sam...But what if he wasn't on the map? What if they'd already taken him out of Manchester? A week was more than enough time, even with plod stop searching every car they could that was heading out.

 

"Guv!" Gene turned. Annie was holding up the phone on the bar. He threw his last dart, uncaring that it landed him a perfect score, and went to take the call.

 

"We've just had a message," Phyllis told him. "From DI Tyler."

 

\---

When the last of the drugs finally wore off, Sam was appalled at his lack of resistance. The random beatings he'd received had seemed a minor inconvenience, a brief blip in his wonderful solitude. They'd asked him questions, too, he realised. Questions about Gene. Sam had answered, like a robot, and the men had gone away.

 

Now awareness was returning. Now pain and fear and screaming hunger. And with it, his will to fight.

 

The very least he could do was stop them taking Gene too.

 

\---

 

Gene had been expecting a ransom note. Sealed envelope, no fingerprints except Sam's.

 

What he got instead was a scrap of soggy newspaper with block capitals along one edge: GUV IN DANGER, and a shaken young woman in reception who had apparently been approached by a brown-haired man in torn clothing with blood all down him.

 

She led them to the spot where he'd run up to her, explained that he was a police officer and that she had to take this bit of paper to the station before staggering away again. From there, Gene and the team spread out. It was rapidly getting dark, their chances of finding Sam dwindling. This had to be it. This had to be the one. From the way she'd described him limping, he couldn't have gone far.

 

\---

 

Sam had ended up closer to the station than he'd meant to be. If they were following him he didn't want to lead them directly to Gene. But he also needed to warn him, somehow. He didn't know how to do that until he saw the girl waiting for a bus. He'd even had to ask her for a pen. He hoped she hadn't  decided he was mad and thrown it in a bin.

 

Now he was on his own again and he had to get out of the city. His knee hurt worse than ever, his arms scraped from the way he'd been using walls to drag himself along. And he hadn't seen his jacket since the day he'd been taken, so he was freezing in his vest, his shirt sleeves had been torn off as he fought his way out.

 

The very, very last person he wanted to see at that moment was Gene.

 

\---

 

His first and only instinct was to grab hold of him and not let him out of his sight again. This plan was somewhat thwarted by Sam backing away from him. Shit, he'd been beaten black and blue, of course he was scared of contact.

Gene stepped back a bit so that the streetlamp lit his face, but Sam's expression didn't change.

 

"Get out of here," he ordered, hoarsely.

 

Gene stared at him. "Why?"

 

"Didn't you read my note? If they find you they'll do the same."

 

"What for? Who are they?"

 

Sam shook his head. "Just go, Guv."

 

Gene wasn't going anywhere. "How come they let you go?"

 

"I escaped." He was sliding down the wall a bit, kept grabbing at it to haul himself upright.

 

"Sam, this doesn't make sense. Whoever they are, they could've grabbed me any time this week..."

 

"A  _week_? Is that how long I've -" 

 

Gene's radio crackled.  _"This is Alpha One. Guv, are you there?"_

 

"I'm here, Phyllis. I've found him."

 

_"And we think we've found his kidnappers. 864 stopped a car heading west. They're saying nowt but they've a bloodstained leather jacket in the boot, Ray says it's Sam's."_

 

Gene blew out a long breath, eyes still trained on Sam, and signed off.

 

"See? Danger's over." He took a small step towards Sam, held out his hand.

 

Sam still curled into himself. "What if it's not them?"

 

Gene frowned, hating to ask this now but needing to. "Do you think you could point them out in a line-up?"

 

Sam hesitated for a while before nodding slowly.

 

"Right, then. Let's get you to a hospital." He closed the gap between them and bent to hook his arm behind Sam's legs.

 

Sam swatted at him, but he didn't sound fearful this time, just confused. "I can walk."

 

Gene carefully touched the ripped fabric of Sam's grey jeans. Even in the dark he could see that there was something badly wrong. Feeling distinctly queasy, he loosened the knot of his tie. "Sam, there's a ruddy great chunk missing from your knee. I'm surprised you can stand."

 

Sam shrugged. "It's just a scratch."

 

Gene flicked him gently in the temple. "Mind. Addled." He finished taking off his tie and wound it around Sam's leg as tightly as he dared. Sam didn't hiss with pain, which was frankly worrying. It was this which made Gene's mind up - scooping a reluctant Sam into his arms, out of the alley and into the waiting ambulance.


End file.
